


Love into the Light

by Momo21



Category: One Direction
Genre: 2013 one direction, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, M/M, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Take Me Home Tour, Take me Home, larry stylinson - Freeform, trigger - Freeform, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momo21/pseuds/Momo21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is depressed and suicidal, Louis is just making it worse. Classic case of a one-sided love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update this if it actually gets reads. I started writing it back in 2013 around the TMH Tour in Australia but school got so busy for me I stopped, but I recently got back into it.  
> (ON HIATUS)
> 
> 9/10/17 Instead of studying for my midterms, I decided to revise all the chapters because they sounded childish to me. Don't worry, I also started writing more to it so it will be updated for real eventually. But I added a bunch of new shit, so take another read

“Thank you Melbourne!” Liam shouted to the crowd of thousands of girls. I looked over to Louis who was waving and blowing kisses to fans. Oh how I wish he would blow one of those kisses over to me. We all ran and jumped off stage and had one of our usual ‘Congratulations’ group hug. The boys were saying stuff like, ‘Did you see that girl in the front row? Damn she was hott.’ I wasn’t interested in what they were talking about so I walked away to the van. I’ve been doing that alot lately, separating myself from the group to be alone. People think I’m not alone since I’m known as the womanizer of the group, but it’s only because I want to feel some type of love. And if having sex with random people is what it takes to feel some sort of love, then I’m gonna have it. 

“Harry, aren’t you going to come to the after party? You haven’t been showing up lately,” Niall popped his head in through the van’s window. 

“Nah I’m fine. I think I’m gonna go to sleep early tonight and just get on twitter,” I faked smiled. I really do want to hang out with the boys, but not in public. Like how we used to always hang out, watching movies and eating pizza.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” And we that, he left me alone. 

 

The minute I got to the hotel room, I collapsed onto the sofa.  _ Why is this so tiring? How can they go out afterwards and party?  _ I thought. My stomach growled, begging for food. I literally rolled off the sofa and dragged myself to the kitchen to make some tea. I mindlessly got on twitter as usual to look through my hate. 

_ ‘I hate Harry Styles. He’s so disgusting and uses women.’ _

_ ‘Who the fuck cares about this gay fag.’ _

_ ‘Don’t touch Harry Styles, you might get an STD.’ _

_ ‘Harry Styles is a slut.’ _

_ ‘Harry Styles is an awful singer. How is he in a band? The other members are such amazing singers, and he’s so awful. _

As I looked through it, I couldn’t help but wonder,  _ What did I ever do to you?  _ I’ve been looking through the hate mail every night, it’s just become a routine now. All the stuff they say about me though is true. I am a slut. I am a fag. I do have a crush on my bandmate. The tea kettle snapped me back into reality, whistling to inform me that , ‘You’re tea’s done!’ I poured my tea and sat on the sofa and just sat there thinking in silence.

_ They wouldn’t care if I left the band. I always get the band in trouble, they would be so much better without me. Everyone would. Everyone would be glad to not see my face on TV or online, to not hear my name or voice. Oh God, my voice. It’s sounds like a dying whale. I can’t sing at all. The band would have so much more success without me. Louis would stop getting hate as well. Oh Louis. Oh how I love you. With your perfect angel voice and Greek god looks. You so fucking perfect, I’m sorry you have to see this hideous face everyday. But if I killed myself no one would have to see it anymore. I’m a waste of space, no one actually likes me. I really should kill my- _

“Hey Harry we all came back early since the party was- Harry what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” That sweet angelic voice, the voice that belonged to Louis asked me with a concerned tone. I didn’t even notice I was crying until he said I was.

“Oh it’s nothing really. Just miss my mum a lot you know?” I lied. He sighed in relief.

“Yeah I feel ya. I miss the girls a ton. Anyways, as I was saying, the party was boring so we all left. We’re gonna watch a movie in Zayn’s room, you wanna join?”

“Nope, I’m fine. I was actually just about to head off to bed. See you in the morning.” Louis gave me this sad look on his face, like he was actually upset that I wasn’t gonna come. But that couldn’t be true since no one actually cares about me. 

“Harry are you sure? You haven’t really been hanging out with us lately, and I’m worried about you,” he lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. The butterflies in my stomach were in a tornado. Louis’ face was so filled with concern and worry, maybe he actually was worried about me. 

“Louis, I’ve told you a thousand times before, I’m okay.” No I’m not. Please notice that I’m not, please, please, please. 

“If you say so, Harold,” he gave me a tiny smile, a pat on the back, and left me. I stared blankly at the door Louis just left out of. How could he not notice I wasn’t okay? He’s my best mate, he’s suppose to notice those things. He’s my best mate, he’s suppose to stay with me, but instead, we’ve been growing apart. I subconsciously walked into the bathroom and dug for the razor I keep at the bottom of my shower bag, pulled down my pants, and cut my hips. I’ve been doing this for about a year now, cutting that is. None of the boys know, and I never plan on telling them. Seeing the blood drip down my legs lets me know that I’m still here, alive, and suffering. I cleanup my hips, put some sweatpants on, and went to bed. 

 

“HAROLD EDWARD STYLES WAKEY WAKEY MOTHERFUCKER!” Some blaring bloke screamed into my ear. When my eyes were fully open, I realized it was just Zayn and Niall. Niall was jumping on my bed screaming, “COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO MOTHERFUCKER. GO AND SEIZE THE DAY. WE NEED YOU TO MAKE US FOOD SINCE NONE OF US CAN COOK FOR SHIT.” The clock said it was 7am, which is way too fucking early. I tried pulling my duvet over my head to go back to sleep, but Zayn just picked me up and carried me out. The band seemed to congregate into my room since I was the last to be awoken. 

“Oh good you’re up! How do you make waffles?” Liam was standing in the kitchen with the box of pancake mix trying to figure out how to make the batter.

“There should be a recipe on the box. Hey, who’s in the shower?” I asked curiously. 

“It’s Louis,” I could barely understand what Niall was saying since he was cramming his face with cereal.  _ Is he gonna have both cereal and pancakes?  _

“Harry!” Liam whined. I looked over at him and saw he got the powder mix all over himself. I groaned and said I would do it and Liam exhaled a sigh of relief. I honestly don’t know how none of them can make waffles, let alone the batter. Zayn, Liam, and Niall were off in their own world talking about some celebrities--some we keep in touch with, others we would rather cut our pinky toes off than be associated with them--while I was in mine thinking about my sad excuse of a life. I heard the water shut off in the shower, so Louis should be out soon. The image of Louis getting out of the hot and steamy shower soon took over my mind, and I didn’t realize what I was doing. 

“Harry, the bowl is tipped, batter is on the counter.” Zayn stated matter-of-factly.

“Shit! Niall can you help me clean this up,” I begged, giving my best puppy-dog face, hoping he would give in.

“Sorry bro, I’m eating. Also your puppy-dog face doesn’t work with me anymore. Pretty sure it’s only with Louis now.” Niall had this stupid as smirk on his face and I just wanted to slap it right off.

“What only works on me?” Louis was out of the shower, in the kitchen, with nothing but a towel wrapped dangerously low and loosely around his slim hips. I stared at him, just thinking of the things I would do to that boy if he was mine. 

“Harry, I know I’m attractive and sexy as hell, but staring is impolite,” Louis snapped me back into reality. My face was probably as red as tomato.  _ Shit I didn’t mean to stare for so long. They all probably think I’m a perverted fag.  _

“Sorry, but I was contemplating whether or not I should tell you that your dick is basically showing since your towel is doing shit.”  _ Nice save, Harry.  _ Louis quickly fixed his towel while his face was also bright red. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, “but as I was saying before, what only works on me?”

“Apparently my puppy-dog face only works on you.”

“Wait does it not work with you guys anymore?” he asked the other mates. The room was filled with a muffled ‘hell no’s’, ‘nope’, and ‘not anymores.’ “Well don’t worry Harry, I still think it’s adorable.” The smirk Louis gave me was going to be the death of me; but the fact that he pinched the dimple on my cheek almost caused me to go into cardiac arrest. I finished cleaning up the mess I made by myself, and started to make waffles. Louis was still in his towel since we all just basically walk around naked, it didn’t matter. Liam went to turn the TV on since at 8, Doctor Who reruns are on, and if he missed an episode we wouldn’t hear the end of it. Zayn was still half asleep. And Niall was just being Niall, bothering me when the waffles would be done, and ranting about how perfect Demi Lovato is. 

I was pouring the batter into the waffle maker when I felt a pair of arms slither around my waist. 

“Harry,” Louis’ warm breath whispered into my ear.

“Yes?” I could barely make it out. He was so close to me. I could feel his breath, I could feel his heart against my back. He was so fucking close to me. 

“How much longer? I’M STARVING!” Of course. It’ll never be about me. He’ll never just walk up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist pulling me as close as possible.  _ It’s all just an act. He’ll never love me the way I love him. Stupid fucking Larry Stylinson.  _

“A couple minutes, babe.” I turned my head around, smiling at his gorgeous eyes. The babe is just something we say to each other and no one thinks it’s weird. Well, besides the fans. We also say, ‘love, lover, baby, sexy, etc...’ he says it jokingly, but I mean it everytime. I want him to be  my babe.  My love. I want Louis to be  mine . The waffles finish, and everyone is eating and watching some sitcom. During a commercial, Liam mutes the TV and says we have to be at the theater hall at noon for practice. It’s 8:45ish now, so we got a while. Everyone goes for seconds for the waffles, but I just feel guilty for eating one. I know I should be watching my weight, so I just got a second cup of tea instead.

“Harry, mate, why aren’t you getting seconds? One waffle couldn’t have filled you,” Liam pondered.

“Not that hungry right now. I got a weird stomach pain, so I’m just gonna ease it with some tea,” I replied.  _ Please buy it, please buy it.. _

“Okay mate, hope you feel better before the show tonight.” He thankfully bought it. I’ve only been eating a majority of one meal a day with a couple snacks, but I mean, whatever helps keep the weight down. And I wasn’t lying entirely, I did have a stomach pain.

“Harry, love, would you mind making us some more batter?” Louis called from the kitchen. The way he says ‘love’ when he talks to me, makes all the butterflies in my stomach go bezerk. I happily obliged to, only to make Louis happy. The way his face lights up and his smile fills his entire face, it could probably cure cancer. “Do ‘ya think I could help you make some?” He asks again. My mind gets overwhelmed with the thought of making waffles with Louis. I start to think of what it would be like every morning if we were together. Every morning we would wake up and I would make him breakfast while we both exchange goofy expressions from across the table.

“Of course! Come along now, sweetums!” We made enough batter for thirds incase Niall wanted some more. Liam was trying to force me to eat another waffle saying, ‘It’ll help your tummy pain! Eat it!’ But I refused knowing it’ll just add extra calories onto a body that doesn’t need it. 

 

At 11, we left to go to the theater hall to practice for our show tonight. It’s not really a practice, it’s more of an lets-all-see-how-annoying-we-can-get-until-we-have-to-be-told-to-stop kind of thing. I know that 2012 Harry would be all over this, laughing and having fun with his friends; but now I just kind of sit there, looking at my twitter mentions, under the stage. 

_ ‘Can’t wait to hear Taylor’s new song about Harry. It’ll probably be an album.’ _

Do they not know that I only went out with her to try to convince myself that I was straight? Didn’t exactly work out. I locked my phone and slid it away from me. I could hear the crew members setting up above me, and sometimes Niall’s laugh in the background.  _ I wonder if he knows how lucky he is. Being able to laugh and it’s genuine, unlike mine.  _ My phone started to ring, but it was too far away to get, plus my motivation is gone. Next thing I know, Zayn and Liam jump down from the stage and start heading underneath it. I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.  _ Shit, shit, shit. They’re gonna think I’m the biggest freak in the world. Like, who the fuck just goes under a stage and sleeps? Let alone look through their twitter.  _

“Harry! Wake up! We have to do mic check. We’ve all been looking for you, why are you  _ under  _ the stage?” 

“I was tired since I was abruptly woken up this morning by a certain person.” I tried my best fake, sleepy glare, but I’m not quite sure if it worked. 

“Look, we’ll let you sleep in tomorrow, we just need you on stage for a mic check and then the meet and greet is at 3, concert at 7 till about 10 or 10:30 then you can sleep. So UP!” Liam ordered. I groaned rather loudly and stretched to grab my phone. We got out from under the stage and hoisted ourselves onto the stage. It’ll always amaze me whenever I see the view of the entire stadium, and knowing that it’s going to be filled to the maximum; not to mention the crowds of fans outside. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh... I actually re-read what I wrote 2 years ago and I made some changes. Hopefully it flows and sounds better. There aren't exactly "chapters" I'm just randomly cutting off places, but I'm trying to make conclusion sentences if that makes sense?  
> Hope you like it!  
> Sorry it's kind of short...

After a couple of hours of checking our voices, microphones, and other standard stage checks, I went to go seclude myself in the dressing room. Zayn was on the phone with Perrie, per-usual, talking about their future wedding: where it would be held, who’s invited, how secretive it’s going to be, just everything. Zayn’s already said that I’m in first place for being best man since I haven’t been bothering him about it. Let’s see if I make it that far. Louis was in the dressing room that we all share, doing what I was going to be doing, sitting checking his phone. Once I closed the door, he got up and and motioned me over with a very serious look on his face.

“Harry, can you, uh, come here. I need you to ask you something really important.” Louis was looking at the floor very nervously, which was making me even more anxiety filled than I already was. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“I’m making a real big decision soon, and I want to tell you first since I trust you more than anyone else here.”  _ You never really see Louis all serious  _ I thought. My heart was really beating now. My mind was filling with possible scenarios: dropping out the band, donating an organ, breaking up with Eleanor, being gay,  _ liking me more than friends.  _ The possibilities of him liking me is one in a million. I mean, who could love an ugly, worthless, talentless, depressed, guy like me.

He took a deep breath, “Okay, okay okay. You can’t tell anyone alright?” I nod my head. “Alright?” he repeats in a more serious tone.

“Yes, yes, I won’t tell anyone, what is it?!” I ask impatiently.

“Okay, here I go. Don’t make fun of me okay, it’s still a thought in process,” he pauses to compose himself, “I’m thinking of proposing to Eleanor on our anniversary in November.” Dead silence filled the room except for the sound of my heart being ripped out and stomped on. If I could kill myself in that instant, I would already be on the ground. _ Propose? He actually loves her. I have no chance, what’s the point of living? I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Three bloody years I’ve loved him. I can’t breathe.  _

I had to tell the boys during the X-Factor that I would get anxiety/panic attacks every once in awhile, so Louis was prepared when it started. He immediately started to hold me, slightly squeezing my shoulders and whispering in my ear that it’s going to be okay. But it was just bullshit. I hate that I broke in front of him, especially because it happened from his news. Recently, I've gotten better at bottling them and having them alone. I tried my best to cover my face and to slow down my breathing, but it was difficult to do with Louis holding on to me, trying to get me to look at him. He kept trying to tell me something, but all I could hear was his voice over and over ‘proposing to Eleanor.’ I pushed him off and turned my face away, sliding my hands down my face, trying to calm down. But, Louis just grabbed me by the shoulders again and made me look at him, but at that point everything was spinning. My head started to ache, I needed air. 

“Harry! Harry! Are you okay. Harry, what’s wrong? Calm down, Harry. Hazza it’s okay, I’m right here. I’m sorry, Harry was it-”

I pushed him off of me, again, and ran straight out of the room. I ran to the back door onto the loft and closed the heavy metal door and sunk to the concrete ground. I was three floors up, and the hot Australian weather was not my friend right now. I was a mess; I was crying hysterically.  _ Why.  _ I thought,  _ Why did I have to fall for that fucking guy? What did I do to deserve to be hurt?  _ Next to me, the door started to slowly creak open and Niall poked his head through, “Harry?” I tried my best to shove the door back, but Niall was much more stronger than I was in this state. 

“Go away,” I croaked. I crawled to the corner of the balcony and put my head in-between my knees so he wouldn’t see my ugly red, tear-stained face. 

“No. Not until you tell me what happened.” He crouched down in front of me.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I barely muffled it through my legs.

“Is it about Louis?” I lifted my face just enough so my eyes were looking at Niall, shock written all over them. “I know you like him, Harry. It’s real easy to see, well, except for Louis, I don’t know how he doesn’t see how much you love him.” He paused and got lost in thoughts for a moment before snapping back to reality. “What the bastard do anyways to make someone as strong as you like this?” His Irish accent was so calming, his entire presence was like a security blanket to me.

“H-he’s go-onna pro-pro-propose to El-ea,” my voice cracked and I started to cry again. Niall moved next to me and wrapped me in his arms and just rocked me back and forth. 

“No he’s not. I can assure you that,” he mused.

“No. He is. I just talked to him, a-and he sa-aid he was.”

“Well, what did you tell him? Did you tell him how you feel?” I almost burst out laughing.

“Do you actually think I could tell him how I feel?” I was completely vulnerable. My voice was shaking, from the emptiness inside and the fact that Niall could actually think I could ever tell Louis how I feel. “I ran, Niall. I ran so fast, I could’ve been in the Olympics,” I wiped my face with the side of my arm and continued. “I had a panic attack. Right in front of him. Not one of my normal  hard-to-breathe, vision-blurring attacks. This was hyperventilating, spinning vision, muffled hearing, losing the ability to fucking stand. And then I ran. He probably thinks I’m the most pathetic, worthless beast to ever walk this ground.” I finally turn to look at Niall to see his response, but all that was written on his face was shock. 

“Harry, why would you ever think you’re pathetic or worthless or or a  _ beast _ ? You’re one of the most perfect human beings in the world. All our fans agree, the band agrees. Why would you think that?” His voice was ridden with disbelief, I could see the inside of his mind turning gears, trying to convey everything.

“Niall,” I stated, “I say those things because I am. I’m pathetic, thinking I’d ever have a chance with Louis, for fucks sake, he’s STRAIGHT! I’m worthless, I don’t matter to the band, I just get you guys in trouble, and cause a bad name, I’m just here for the public eye, ‘a sex icon,’ I say in disgust. “I don’t have talent like the rest of you, majority of my voice on the album is autotuned. I’m a beast, because I hate what I see, what I read. Social media says it, tabloids say it, I’m just all for sex, like a beast. I’m going to be the next big womanizer, preying on women. I’m not even straight, but God forbid they find that out.” Not being able to look at Niall after basically revealing part of myself, I slowly got up and left. Neither one of us said a word as I walked out. It was unspoken, but we both knew there was nothing left to be said, nothing to change what has happened. I left Niall a scared and confused mess because I was too selfish to think anyone besides me and my pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight scene and sadness really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I hope you like this one. It's a little longer than the other two chapters. The chapter after this one, I'm worried about it and how people will view it. But this one I'm a little confident on, I did some major editing, so I hope it's okay :)

Niall didn’t come after me, which I guess is a good thing. I looked at my watch and saw I still had time before the meet and greet that I could spend alone to process everything. Across the hall, I could hear the voice of the devil.

“Zayn, Liam, have you guys seen Harry anywhere? I’m worried, he ran off the last time I tried to talk to him. And I just need to make sure he’s okay.” Frantically, I hid behind some sound equipment and kept a close ear on the conversation.

“Nope, sorry mate,” Liam responded, “last time I saw him was mic check. Zayn?”

“Sorry, Lou, last time I saw him I was on the phone with Perrie and he was going to the dressing rooms. Hey, why did he run away?” Zayn inquired. 

“Oh, it was just nothing,” Louis was trying to move the conversation away from the topic. “If you see him, please text me. I’m worried,” Louis admitted. Just as Louis was about to walk away, a panic-stricken Niall came running towards them. My breathing start to speed up again.  _ Calm yourself. You can do that. Remember. Deep breaths, closed fists, eye closed, deep breaths. _

“Guys, please tell me you know where Harry is,” he strained.

“Louis was just asking the same thing. None of us know,” Liam replied, panic began to run through his eyes. My breathing exercises calmed me down, and I started to brainstorm solutions to get out of the area.  _ Maybe if I start to crawl backwards, they won’t see me and I can get away. _ I quietly pulled off my boots and got on my hands and knees, inching back where I came from. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Niall was pulling his hair in frustration, “we need to find him.  _ Now _ .” I was halfway down the back hall from where I entered,  _ Just a few more _ . 

“Niall, what do you know. What happened?” Louis’ voice was filled with concern.

“Oh no, not you,” Niall turned to Louis, “you need to stay out of this. You’ve done enough today.”

“Woah, Niall, what do you mean. What the fuck aren’t you guys tell us?” Zayn questioned. I was on the other side of the wall now. I stood up, and quickly walked away. I stayed in the shadows and hid from the crew members. I was trying to stay calm so I won’t get pulled over by someone asking if I was okay. 

I was finally alone in the dressing rooms and locked the door. I went as far as I could from the door, and went in-between the wall and the couch. Enclosed spaces help with my attacks. Word got out I guess, and my phone started to blow up with texts from the boys, even Calum was texting me asking where I was and if I was okay. I turned it off, and slid it under the couch where I couldn’t reach it. My head rested against the wall as I cried.  _ Louis doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me. He loves Eleanor. Louis and Eleanor. Louis and Eleanor. You’re worthless. Louis and Eleanor. Hideous. Louis and Eleanor. Talentless. Louis and Eleanor.  _ There was banging and yelling on the door.  _ Louis and Eleanor. Pathetic. Unlovable. Replaceable. Irrelevant. Louis and Eleanor.  _ The banging on the door was getting louder, it sounded like the door was cracking. I pulled my legs in closer, and tried my best to stop making any sound.  _ Stop breathing if you could. You’re just wasting oxygen that Louis and Eleanor could be using on their wedding day.  _ The banging stopped. But I sat still. I didn’t move a muscle. The door crashed down on one last push. I could see that Liam was the one who pushed it down from the way he cursed. The all came piling in, practically screaming my name. I held my head tighter and pressed my eyes harder. 

“Harry?” Louis’ voice had been crying.  _ I guess Niall told them what I said. _ “Harry are you in here?” They all searched around, but no one came near the couch. 

“I guess he’s not in here,” Niall sniffed, “I swear if he’s doing something stupid right now-”

“Niall stop it,” Zayn chimed in, “let’s keep looking. We have to find him before the Meet and Greet.” And then they all left. 

 

I sat there in the room, behind the couch for God knows how long. I crawled out from the small space once my crying had stopped and stretched. The door was gone, and the mess was cleaned up. All that was left was broken hinges and scratched paint. I grabbed the broom by the door to pull my phone out from under the couch and saw the time. 2:45pm.  _ Crap.  _ I turned to the mirror to see the damage. My eyes were still puffy, my curls were everywhere, and my face was red. After splashing my face with water, and fixing my hair, I had ten minutes to get to the meet and greet. 

I got there on time, but none of the other boys were there yet.  _ Fuck, they better not be looking for me.  _ I pulled out my phone and got the courage to text Niall why they weren’t at the meet and greet. He only replied with, ‘we’re on our way.’ I could tell the fans were getting anxious, all of them saying that it’s time and that they want to see us.  _ I feel like an animal the way they treat us. Watching our every move, having set times to see us. Like a lion in a cage.  _ As if God was looking down on me, four boys were running my way. I tapped my wrist, jokingly, to indicate that they were late, trying to act like the past couple hours didn’t happen. They all just glared at me. Zayn pulled me by my shoulders and whispered, “We’re all gonna talk later,” aggressively in my ear.  _ Look, now Zayn hates you. Way to fucking go, Harry! Making your own bandmates hate you. That’s impressive, mark that one in the calendar.  _ I shook off the thought and went to meet the fans.

Becoming famous meant having multiple facades. We were all laughing and smiling, acting like nothing just happened just so we wouldn’t upset the fans. Nearing the end, I was getting more relaxed because it would soon be over and I could be alone. I just wanted to go back to the hotel and get a nap in before the concert.

“Um..Can I have a picture?” a teenaged brunette asked. 

“Sure thing, love,” Louis sweetly replied. Our photographer was in the bathroom so we were just gonna call another crew member over really fast to take it. But instead the girl turned to me. 

“Can you take the picture for us?” the girl asked me. I was gobsmacked. I mean this isn’t the first time this has happened, but this is at a  _ Meet and Greet. _

“Uh..yeah sure. I can take it,” all the boys were confused. The girl handed me her phone and I took the picture. She hugged all of them, but me, and then the next girl in the group was up. She was relatively nice. She smiled, acknowledged all of us, joked, but then did basically the same thing. We were all in line for our picture, the girl was in front of me, got the picture taken, and when she looked behind she said, “Ew,” with a scowl on her face. She went to go hug the boys one last time,  except me, and left. The crew was starting to pack things up, and I took it as my cue to start leaving. 

“Harry,” Liam announced. I tensed, but decided to keep on walking. “Harry!” I ignored it again, quickening my pace. I was pulled back by my shoulders and turned to face my executioner. I took steps backwards, but my back hit a wall. Never have I ever seen Liam this furious before; especially to the point where it looks like he’s going to resort to violence. “We’re trying to fucking talk to you, but you just keep on running away. Now where the fuck were you?” The only other time I’ve seen Liam this pissed was when he and Danielle were breaking up. 

“I was under the stage, listening to music. I needed to be alone for awhile. I’m sorry, okay?” I timidly lied. 

“Bullshit. I don’t believe that for a minute-”

“Liam, lower your temper you’r-” Zayn tried to interfere, but was just pushed aside by Louis.

“No, Zayn. Let Liam talk. I want to hear what he says.” He nodded at Liam, signaling to continue. 

“I don’t fucking believe that for one minute. We were all fucking worried sick about you. Why wouldn’t you answer your phone?”

“I had it off-”

“You just said you were listening to music.”

“I had airplane mode on.”

“Sure,” Liam’s voice dragged out, reeking with suspicion. His eyes were shooting daggers into me. I felt so small, and insignificant in that moment. I’m usually the one towering over the boys, but now the tables have turned. They all stood above me, looking down. Silence fell over us for a couple of seconds but Zayn just always says what everyone is thinking.

“Why do you think you’re worthless,” Zayn chimed in. My head turned towards Niall. 

“You told them! Niall! What the fuck, I thought I could trust you?” I jumped to my feet and walked towards Niall. He raised his arms up in defense.

“What the hell was I supposed to do? You were missing, I was worried, so I felt like I needed to say some things. Saying that type of shit and then bolting doesn’t look good.”

“Yeah, what other things did you say?”

“Nothing else, Harry, I swear.” I looked around and saw the other boys looking at us with confusion. My chest was heaving with anger and fear.   _ I’m about to pull a bitchy move here. Fuck, I hate myself. _

“Stop worrying about me and start fucking worrying about Louis! I mean, he caused this. He’s been ditching me for Eleanor the minute he said he loved her. I didn’t even know we were still best mates since you’ve just been leaving me, and how he’s gonna fucking propose to Eleanor. Just what we need. Two fucking members engaged. Soon, no one is gonna be there for the band and it’s gonna break up, causing none of us to talk to each other. Fuck this,” I pushed them all out of my way and started walking. 

“Oh, now I get it, Harry. You’re jealous,” Louis chirped up. My body froze. “That’s not your fucking business to tell, Harry.” Louis was down right pissed. His voice was getting deeper than usual, causing all the boys to stare at him. “You’re just jealous that I’ve found someone, I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with, and you’re fucking jealous. You know what, I thought you were better than that, Harry. I didn’t want to believe what the tabloids said, about you being a sex-crazed, lonely, conceited, loser. But you know what, you are, Harry. You really are.” Silence filled the room.  _ I told you so.  _ Tears brimming in my eyes, I turned around to face them. 

“Anything else? Anything else you guys want to say? Anyone else want to say something I already fucking know! Something I don’t fucking read everyday! Something I don’t fucking think every fucking minute! I’m the most fucked-up, worthless, pathetic, filthy, dick there is! I’m a fucking disgrace. So if any of you want to say something else, please make it something worth my time.” No one said anything. I looked at them, and they looked at me either loss for words or Louis summed everything up for them. I’ll take the latter. I wiped my face, and walked away. I walked past the hoards of screaming fans, completely ignoring them. I somehow left the area without a single scratch, and didn’t lose any part of my clothing. I walked to the taxi I don’t even remember calling up and rode to the hotel. I just wanted to go back to bed, sleep and never wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Harry wants to everything to stop and to go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I suck at updating! This chapter has graphic self-harm in it, so this is my trigger warning. Please!!! Do not read if you are easily triggered. I don't know how I feel about this chapter, I mean I like it, but idk if you guys will. This one is a little longer. I'm still trying to figure out how AO3 works, so sorry that there's literally no indentations. I'm trying to figure that out. But I figured out how to do italics on here, so there's the plus.  
> xoxo

I get up to my hotel room and slam the door shut.  _ I told you he hates you. He sees you for who you truly are. He could never love you. He said the words himself, you’re lonely, conceited, loser. Go into the bathroom and cut yourself. Bleed yourself dry. You deserve it all. Your own “best friend” hates you. You might as well end it.  _ The clock said 6:30, 5SOS should be getting ready soon. I drag myself to the bathroom, and flinch at the mirror.  _ Look at that ugly, fat, monster in the mirror. Oh wait, that’s you. You look like that everyday. Fat, greasy hair, acne-covered skin, you look like shit every day. You always have, and you always will.  _ I threw my fist at the mirror to get rid of the distorted image. My breathing was short and heavy, rage filling me up for allowing my band to figure out the true me. Mirror shards stuck in my knuckles, but I couldn’t feel it. Everything had gone numb. My brain, my body, my senses, for a moment, everything was numb, and it was perfect.

My fingers wrap around one of the shards that fell into the sink, I turn the sink on and I drag the shard downwards on my wrist. Blood immediately starts to flow and turns the sink red. My anxiety starts to kick in. No one really talks about what a living hell it is to have both anxiety and depression. Depression is not caring, but anxiety is caring too much, having both is another war I don’t need. Although I’m pissed at my friends, I have a show to perform. I can’t have more people hate me for killing myself before a concert, I should at least wait till a break. 

I frantically start to look for bandages. The cut’s too deep though, it’s gonna need stitches. But I can’t got to the hospital. I’m fucking Harry Styles. The press would be all over that like a fourteen year old boy discovering internet porn. I wrap a towel around my wrist and stagger to my bedroom.  _ Guess I’ll have to do it myself. Just like the suicidal freak I am.  _ I knock everything onto the ground when grabbing my suitcase and swinging it onto the bed. I pour out  my suitcase, spilling the contents out. I fall to my knees, and with my good arm I search from the little sewing kit.  _ Sewing kit, sewing kit, sewing kit.  _ I pull out my sewing kit, but my vision begins to wander and spots begin to appear; soon after I begin to feel a rush of lightheadedness. Too much energy was exerted in such a small amount of time. I look down at my hands and wrist and I can’t recognize them. My right hand, covered in blood, bits of the broken mirror still stuck in my knuckles. My left hand, lifeless, blood covering the most part of my arm and also my clothes. My hands are sweating like crazy, it felt like someone was banging cymbals behind my forehead. I struggled to get the thread through the needle, but I did it. It’s not big enough for a proper job, but I need something to help close it up, even a bit. I started heating the tip with my lighter, like Bear Grylls once showed. 

Once the tip gets hot enough, I count to three and drive it through my skin. It’s so much worse than cutting.  _ Deep breaths, Harry. You can do it. Just like overcoming those attacks.  _ My entire body was shaking, everything was in overdrive. I pinch the other side of the cut so the two sides are pressed together and push the need through again, but I hold in my scream and instead thrash around. Four stitches later, it’s finished.  _ Look at that masterpiece.  _ The inside of my arm looked like something directly out of a horror movie. I raid the first aid kit the hotel provides and put some butterfly enclosures and gauze pads on it before wrapping an ace bandage around it. 

It took me a good hour to patch it up; the show has probably started. I look down at my shirt and jeans and realise that they’re covered in blood. The ground from the bathroom to my room leaves a trail, but I’ll clean that up later. I had to crawl over to my bedside table and knocked it down for my water bottle.  _ I should eat. I lost a lot of blood. I should eat. But there’s so many calories.  _ Shaking my thoughts away, I down the rest of the water and pull off my clothes, with great difficulty. I make sure to pick a long sleeve shirt to cover the bandage. I couldn’t even look in the mirror without having to hold onto the dresser. Staggering down the hall, sliding against the wall, I checked my phone to see it read 8:15.  _ Shit, I’m late. _ I practically slur on the phone for another taxi and head over to the arena; where all the screaming fans and angry band members were waiting for me. I hold my pounding head in my hands, hoping for it to go by quickly. 

 

The taxi arrives in the back, VIP entrance and I’m immediately rushed towards inside, people in my face trying to put my makeup on, hook me up to my mic, too many people. They send me over to where the boys were standing, about to ascend on stage. I look over and notice all the boys are glowering at me, and I just fake my biggest smile in their direction with two thumbs up. Louis turns away and scoffs, the others look away in both guilt and shame. 

“You’re on in 5. Get in positions,” our tour manager told us. I stumble to my platform, and my vision starts to see dots. My arm is throbbing a dull ache. I turn my arm so the inside is pressed against my stomach.

“Shit,” I murmur. Zayn looks over at me with a concerned face and mouths, ‘Are you okay?’ The platforms begin to move up, but I step off last minute. All their heads are turned towards me while ascending, but I fall to sit on the ground and hold my head. The music starts playing, and Liam starts off the concert with the first verse.  _ They sound so much better without me.  _ Our tour manager comes up to me and starts yelling, saying I should be on stage. I’m forced up, but I detour to the dressing rooms to get a new shirt. The only long sleeved shirt there is white, so I decide on a tee-shirt and a jacket over it. My head is banging and I can hardly differentiate objects. I’m practically carried out to a staircase to get on stage. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join us?” Louis joked.  _ Did he just forget about earlier?  _ “How ‘ya doing, Harry?”

“Feeling pretty sick, so watch out everyone,” I smirked. I sit down on the glass staircase and ignore the throbbing in my arm. 

“Jus’ don’t throw up on meh, ‘arry,” Niall loves thickening his accent around the fans. I made it through the first set. I did the bare minimum of moving across stage and tried my best to sit whenever possible. But now the hovering stage is next, and I don’t think I can do it.  _ I bet if you fell from there you could finish the job.  _ I hang onto the microphone stand for my dear life as sweat beads down my forehead and arms. I felt like I was going to slip off and fall into the crowd on the way to Stage B. When we finally land, Niall has to help me off.

“Shit mate, you’re freezing cold and sweating like crazy. What is happening right now?” Niall looked genuinely concerned. I had to look away, it felt as if his big blue eyes would see right through me. He helps me towards the center of the stage, but that’s when I realize there’s no place to sit but the ground. Niall walks away to answer some twitter questions and Liam decides to join in on the fun and grabs me to make sure I don’t pass out or fall over.

“Harry, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out any moment now. All the colour is drained from your skin.” I could tell that the pictures of him grabbing me and talking into my ear are going to be on some blogs tonight, over speculating everything we do. I smile reassuringly.

“I’m fine Li-Li, like I said earlier, don’t you worry about me.” Liam returns with a wary smile, and goes to read the twitter questions. I regain my balance and try my best to sit down without falling over and going unconscious. 

“‘arry,” Niall starts, “why ‘ya sittin on ta ground?”

“Still a little nauseous, nothing serious,” I assure him.

“Alright tere, mate. What’s yur answur to ta question?” I look at the screen and read the question, ‘What’s one thing in the world you wish you could be?’  _ Dead.  _

“My answer is probably...a student to be honest. Wish I finished school,” I fake pouted.

“Instead you joined this kick-ass band,” Zayn joked.

“Oh yeah, so kick-ass.” I sing our next set on the ground, and feel worse than ever. All the boys keep glancing over at me to make sure I’m okay, and I always have to give them a thumbs up. Time came to move back to the main stage, but the journey back over was worse. I hold onto the stand for dear life, yet again, but this time, Liam and Niall have their hands on my back to make sure I don’t fall. I wouldn’t mind falling, though. We finally land, and I sprint as fast as I could without falling off the stage. I immediately grab onto a wall to stabilize me. All our mics are offs and I’m slowly making my way to the changing room, holding onto everything near me. 

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck was that, Harry?” Liam pipes up. “You were late to your own concert, and now you say you’re sick? I’m sorry for saying this, mate, but are you wasted right now?” I slide down to the floor of the room and shake my head. Everything in the room is spinning, I fall over and grab the trashcan by the door and puke everything I had up. Which was just breakfast.  _ Throwing up is such a good way to get rid of food. Have people think you’re eating, but then toss it back up. You should do it more.  _ Zayn comes over and rubs his hand on my back, reassuring that I’m going to be okay.

“It’s okay I’ve had a bad stomach since this morning. Remember?”

“Here,” Zayn hands me a complementary protein bar the venue stocked us with, “you’re probably sick from not eating all day. And now that you’ve just thrown everything up, you should definitely eat this.” My vision starts getting darker and blurrier.

“No. Don’t want that,” I sound like a five year old. Zayn scoffs.

“What? Why not? They’re your favorite.” My voice started getting really sleepy and done.

“No, too many calories. Don’t need ‘em.” Everyone’s looking at me, their eyes were like piercing lasers, burning through me. But I couldn’t tell. They’ve never heard me talk like that before. 

“Out in 3,” a roadie pops their head into our room.

“I’m just gonna stay in here. Hurts to move,” I tell them.  _ I’m so out of it.  _ Louis’ the first to move out of the room.

“Selfish bitch,” he mumbles pass me. Zayn, Liam, and Niall all tell me to feel better and walk out the door.

“I’m sorry about earlier! I’m a prick!” I yell out to them as they walk away. Liam glances back one last time and gives me a sympathetic smile. The music starts back up again and I listen to how much better they sound without me in it. In that moment, I realized how lonely I was. I sat alone in the changing room, half alive, listening to my best mates do what they love. I shake my jacket off from my position on the ground. The ace bandage had started to bleed through and was rubbing against my underarm. I start unwrapping it to relieve the pressure. My good hand trailed down to my stomach and pulled on my gut. Seeing it rolled from my slouched position made me disgusted. Being able to grab a handful almost made me want to puke again. I look in front of me and see a floor length mirror, mocking me. Dead eyes stared back at me in the mirror, bags heavy, and bloodshot.  _ Disgusting. You are the most, useless, insignificant, ugliest, talentless member of the band. You should’ve stayed home on your audition. Simon should’ve said no.  _ My right hand goes to pick at my wrist.  _ Louis abandoned you because he started to see you for your true self. He started to see you as an irrelevant, hideous, hopeless, waste of space.  _ I start picking harder, the blood starts to run down my arm once again.  _ He could never love someone like you. Stop dreaming. He loves Eleanor. Louis and Eleanor. Even their names together are perfect. Louis and Eleanor. Louis and Eleanor. Louis and Eleanor. Louis and El- _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find Harry, it's a wreck.  
> (Kinda don't like this chapter, but what you gonna do)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY! I had a rough first semester and barely got to write in my free time because I was busy with school work and college stuff. I'm currently working on 6-8 (going back, editing, adding stuff, etc...) again, I'm so sorry, I haven't updated in five months, I will try my best not to abandoned this.  
> Love you!  
> (Also, in case any of you were wondering, I had the idea of this fic like 3-4 years ago, which is why there's, like, old references and, you know, Zayn in the band. I can't remember if I mentioned that this is TMH era (the blessed era).  
> Can't believe I went 5 months, I'm so sorry if I just left people hanging

“Wasn’t our best concert, if I do say so myself,” Liam started as they were all walking down to the changing room.

“Yeah, I think if Harry was with us it would’ve been better,” Zayn added. “What do you think he meant by ‘Too many calories’ earlier?”

“I don’t know probably some weird new diet he’s on,” Louis sneered, “I just can’t wait to finish this tour.”

“So you can go propose to Eleanor?” Liam sing-songed. Zayn and Niall started making “ooh” sounds while playfully pushing Louis.

“Stop it!,” Louis laughed. “I’m not even sure if I’m going to anymore. I mean, Harry got all upset about it for some reason. Maybe he is right, maybe ever since I’ve met Eleanor I’ve been leaving him in the dark, not even checking up to see if he really is okay,” Louis sighed into his hands, “this entire thing is just so frustrating.” Liam’s hand snakes around Louis’ back and pulls him into a hug.

“It’s not your fault. He’s probably just moody since now two of his best friends are moving on with their lives. Scared that you two might quit the band,” Liam said reassuringly. 

“That’s stupid,” Zayn interjected, “he knows we would never leave the band unless something serious happened. Like having a kid or something.” Niall stayed quiet and walked ahead of the boys. He was the first to open the door, and had to turn away from the sight. He stumbled backwards, almost falling, Liam caught him and started to ask what was wrong. Zayn took the initiative to go into the dressing room to see what Niall was freaking out about. With almost the same reaction as Niall, Zayn saw Harry passed out on the ground, arm covered in blood, barely breathing. He immediately whipped out his phone and called for 000. Louis still stood outside, worried of what he would find inside. He refused to go inside and see what was wrong, whatever it was he knew it was awful since Zayn was blabbering nonsense on the phone about a body, and Liam was holding Niall, both of which were crying. Reassuring him everything’s gonna be okay, but not even believing in his own words.

Each step Louis took seemed to take ages. Everything was moving in slow motion, crew members were running around, trying to pack equipment up fast as possible, management members were rushing to the scene to see what stupid thing the boys did this time. Zayn was now on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest, pulling on his hair, talking to himself, saying it was all his fault. Louis finally reached the door frame and took the look inside. Inside, he saw a beautiful boy with curly hair lying on the ground with his arm spread out showing the deep vertical line oozing red liquid, pooling up around his arms. 

_ This is my fault _ Louis thought,  _ all that shit I gave him today. It was just enough to push him over.  _ Louis speed-walked to the boy and knelt down. He pulled his head into his lap and started to stroke his luscious curls. Tears were crashing down onto Harry, Louis held him closer, crying into his hair. With his arms wrapped loosely around his neck, he could feel the faint beat of a pulse. His breath caught and started to call the ambulance who just walked in over. Quite rudely, they pushed Louis to the side and lifted Harry up onto a stretcher, where they immediately started to hook him up with an oxygen tank and applied pressure to his arm.  _ Why didn’t we do that in the first place? _ As they strolled Harry out of the room, Liam moved over to Louis and held Louis as he cried into his arms. 

“This is all my fault, Liam,” Louis cried into Liam’s shoulder, “I should’ve noticed from all those nights he stayed in. The way he became so fragile. I should’ve fucking noticed!” 

“Louis don’t you dare blame this on yourself-”

“But it is my fault! All that shit I told him today. It was probably enough to push him over. Li, why didn’t we see this earlier? Why didn’t we notice that our own mate was suicidal?” Louis pondered. Liam didn’t know how to answer. He just pulled Louis into a tighter hug and wished for the best to come out of this. For Harry to get better.

“Come on,” Liam wiped his eyes and stumbled to his feet and pulled Louis up, “let’s go back to the hotel and calm down.” Louis threw his face into Liam’s shoulder and couldn’t stop crying.

“How can you be so calm!” Louis screeched.

“One of us has to,” Liam rubbed Louis’ back and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's back for round two and wants to be with his best buds, will things be different though

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9/10/17  
> LOL PLOT TWIST NEW CHAPTER I'M THE WORST  
> This is kinda fluffy to soothe your soul

A week later, after all the release forms are signed and I have my new three bottles of medications, I get to go back on tour. I can’t believe I let myself get caught. _ Why didn’t I lock the door? _ Our management team made up some excuse that I had to go home for a very important family related thing. Most of our fans bought it, but some were skeptical of what happened. I had to miss out on our last Brisbane and Sydney shows, but I get to go back to perform our last three Australian shows, right back in Melbourne. I never even left Melbourne. 

While in the hospital, the boys tried to visit with me, but I would never let them in. They would only ever come in when I was asleep and the nurse would let them. I got professional stitches and put on some anti-depressants. My first performance since the attempt is tonight and I’m terrified. I haven’t even had a conversation with one of the boys since last week. One of our drivers took me back to the hotel. I went to front desk, checked in, and headed up to the top floor, where I noticed that one of the rooms was out of service, it was my old room. The room with blood everywhere. Our tour manager said I would be rooming with one of the other boys until they think I’m stable enough to be on my own, which we all know will never happen. Suicide watch they call it. I figured Zayn would be the coolest with the incident, just because I’ve always thought he’s a chill guy.  _ I would rather go back to the hospital than be in this awkward mess.  _ With the small amount of courage I had, I ghosted my knuckles against the door. 

“It’s open!” Zayn shouted. My hands were shaking, I couldn’t open the door.  _ They’re gonna yell at me. They’re gonna tell me how pathetic I am for trying to kill myself. They all hate now. I can’t do this, I can’t do this. _ I guess I took too long to open the door, since Zayn opened it instead. He was shocked to see me, his light brown eyes grew wide and his mouth went slightly a gap. 

“Harry?” He muttered out.

“H-hi,” I shyly waved my hand but went back to looking at the ground, playing with my feet. Zayn pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly. 

“Never, ever, EVER do that again. You hear me? Never,” I didn’t really hug back. I just let my arms hang there, but Zayn was full on hugging for a good minute or two. Zayn was sniffling and would tighten the hug every now and then. It never struck me that Zayn was actually crying, I didn’t even think Zayn could cry. 

“Come on , mate. Let’s go inside. We got a lot of stuff to catch up on,” he patted me on the back and pulled me into his room. He pushed his clothes off the spare bed and sat down on it, beckoning me to sit next to him. Once I sat down, he turned in closer to me and gave me that pitiful look that I hate so much. My eyes found interest in my twiddling fingers. Nothing could break this silence in a good way. 

“So why’d you do it?” Zayn asked, breaking the silence. My head shot up and made eye contact with Zayn. I could feel myself shaking; my throat closed up on me, I forgot how to speak. Zayn wanted to know why I miserably failed in killing myself, but I couldn’t tell him I was in love with Louis. He’d throw me away; he’d never want to associate with a fag like me ever again. 

“I did it,” I started, “for all the reasons someone tries to kill himself for.” By then, I couldn’t control my body, my chest was heaving and my left leg was transforming into a jack hammer. I felt arms wrap around me and a head in the crook of my neck. My body started to slow down and come back to Earth.

“I don’t understand though,” Zayn muffled in my neck, “you’re, like, the most perfect human on the planet. Thousands of people think that.”

“But thousands also think I’m a cuntbag.”

“Those people don’t matter though. The only opinions that matter are those of who you care about.” Zayn’s words lingered in the air for God knows how long. The two of us didn’t speak for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes. We both stayed in each others embrace, not knowing when or if to let go. The air in the room was heavy, I felt like my lungs were giving out on me. It was only time before my back gave out from sitting up in an awkward position with a 21 year old man hanging on me. I gently laid both Zayn and myself backwards onto the bed. Once we were horizontal and my body stopped aching, I realized Zayn fell asleep, using me as a pillow. I guess he’s been exhausted and a little overwhelmed from seeing me, and he finally got in a comfortable place and it all just took over.  _ My neck fat is probably a like fat, fluffy pillow.  _ I closed my eyes, curled inwards with Zayn, and let my long-term exhaustion take over. 

 

I woke up after feeling an absence of heat on the left side of my body. I rolled over to find myself alone on the bed, in Zayn’s room. Alone. Like always. I scrambled myself up and pulled my phone out the back pocket of my jeans. Noon. Being gone for a week, and not knowing the schedule, I cautiously texted Zayn asking where he was and if there was anything I needed to do. He speedily responded with saying he was in Liam’s room and that they were coming over to our room ASAP. And he was right. Right when I was about to reply, Zayn and Liam came in through the door and I was tackled back onto the bed by Liam who was sobbing something about how he’ll always be there and that he loves me or some bullshit like that. 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell any of us about what was going on! We’re your brothers, we’re suppose to be there for each other at all times! It just pains me that you were suffering and none of us knew,” he muffled into my neck while squeezing the air out of my body.  _ Please continue to squeeze me like this. I might stop breathing.  _

“Li, Li! Stop, you’re hurting me,” I barely made it out. Liam immediately removed himself, straightened out of shirt, looking like he was about to break into tears again, and just...stared. His hands were on my shoulders, for reassurance, and to probably hold himself up from fainting. He was taking all  _ this  _ in. Trying to make sense of someone like me, doing something so extreme. His intense stare into my eyes kept making me avert my gaze, but he was persistent.

“What was the last thing you ate?” His tone got serious. It was like in those movies, when the character just snaps into a flashback, all my senses failed to acknowledge the two boys in front of me. 

 

“ _ Mr. Styles, after doing some testing, your BMI is around 16.” The doctor looked at Harry, showing no expression what-so-ever.  _

_ “What does that mean,” Harry drawled out, refusing to look in the direction of the doctor. _

_ “It means you’re underweight. For your height and stature, the average is around 18-26; and yours is 16.” Harry felt like the doctor was treating him like a child. Forcing him to eat, speak, live. “What was the last thing you ate willingly before you were admitted here?” _

 

Brought back to reality, I looked in front of me. Two boys with worrisome expressions “Sorry, what did you ask?” Liam and Zayn were by my side all of a sudden, propping me up against their shoulders. Liam and Zayn made eye contact and seemed to have some telepathic conversation, because suddenly Zayn closed his eyes and nodded his head.

“Harry, I think you should sit down,” he and Liam guided me down onto the bed and soon they followed and were sitting on either side of me. Liam’s hand was gently squeezing my knee while giving me that pity smile. 

“What do you say about greeting the other boys? Maybe a little welcome back party between the five of us?” Liam bit his lip in fear and in hope. 

“We could play some FIFA, order some takeout, talk about our upcoming album and finish some songs,” Zayn interjected. The idea of a small, cozy party with my five best mates sounds amazing. But seeing Louis. That’s a whole new concept I haven’t thought of since before I attempted. Zayn and Liam look at me with their hopeful, big brown eyes, and I cave. The two boys became my crutches and hauled me off the bed. Zayn straightened out my shirt and tucked some of my curls behind my ear before putting his arm out for me to hold as I walked. 

The short walk from the bedroom to Niall’s room, two doors down, seemed as if it was a thirty minute walk. Could have been because I was zoning out of Liam’s rambling and started to disassociate. I came back to this plane of existence when Zayn shook my shoulder. Yet again, two sets of worried eyes staring at me like a deer in the headlights.

“Sorry, it just happens. Disassociating…Yeah…,” I cleared my throat, finding interest in my shoes. Liam’s left arm somehow ended up wrapped around my torso in our short walk and used it to pull me closer for a hug. I could feel the distinct touch of lips kissing the top of my head, his hands squeezed a little tighter on my waist. Zayn knocked on Niall’s door and from the other side you could hear frantic movement and a leg banging into the side of a piece of furniture. A body slammed into the door, making the three of us jump back a bit. Niall hastily opened his door and flung himself onto me, pulling me away from Liam’s grip. It was like that rom-com hug where the boy lifts the girl off her feet and twirls her around, only it was just Niall lifting me and stumbling backwards, probably because of my weight. 

“Harry, I missed you so much,” Niall muffled into my neck. “I’m so glad you’re still here.” I would be lying if I said my eyes didn’t start to brim with tears. Surprisingly, I hugged him back once my feet were touching the ground again. Just by seeing Niall, I could tell this was going to be the best night I’ve had in awhile. 


End file.
